


(I Know I'm not a) Hopeless Case

by wynnesome



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Ultimate Universe, Marvel Ultimates
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Steve Rogers, First Time, Foreplay, Infidelity, M/M, Top Tony Stark, Ults Day
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-03 08:52:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16323107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wynnesome/pseuds/wynnesome
Summary: Steve and his one previous lover were both fumbling virgins. It was “supposed to get better,” but they tried a few times and it never really got very good.Now, he’s wooing the lovely Wasp, Janet Pym. She’s worldly, sophisticated, and makes no bones she likes his body. Tomorrow night is their all-important third date. Heknowsshe has Expectations, and hereallydoesn’t want to disappoint her.It’s no surprise who he asks for advice. Tony Stark. What is a surprise is the very hands-on offer Tony seems to be making to show Steve how it’s done. It’s not cheating if it’s with a man, and it’s all for Jan’s benefit -- right?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Beautiful Day" by U2:  
> "Touch me, take me to that other place. Teach me, I know I'm not a hopeless case."
> 
> Please note the summary and tags for this fic! 
> 
> I seem to have really taken to heart the very dubious morality of the Ultimates.  
> This is basically a fun and light-hearted story, but it _does_ contain infidelity to a dating relationship.
> 
> In real life, I do not take infidelity as a cute or funny subject. This is fic, so I’m feeling free to take it lightly in the safe, non-reality environment. 
> 
> Basic details: Steve and Jan’s relationship is entirely offscreen. Steve also sleeps with Tony (onscreen). Tony is fully aware of Steve’s relationship with Jan. Jan is not aware that Steve is sleeping with Tony. 
> 
> Additional details: If you want to know more about the infidelity before deciding whether to read this story or not, then please see the fic end notes at the bottom of the last currently posted chapter. This isn’t a plot-heavy fic, but those notes are still spoiler-ish for the way the situation plays out through the ending. So if you want to read it without knowing any more than this, then please skip those notes!
> 
> The possible character backstory that 1940s Steve might not have known much about sex or women's bodies, and may have had less-than-wonderful early sexual experiences, was mentioned by [SirSapling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirSapling) in a conversation on the Ults Steve/Tony Discord. This isn't really a story about Steve's past sex life, but since that idea is a starting point for the premise of this fic, I wanted to acknowledge it. And Sap is always an invaluable help with every single Ults question ever. :)
> 
> Huge thanks to [Veldeia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veldeia/) for taking a break from the writing of her amazing BB fic to beta-read and help me work through a mid-story sticking point!

"Stark, you got a minute?" Steve paused in the doorway of Tony's study, scrupulously not crossing an inch past the threshold without confirming his invitation.

Tony looked up from the pile of Stark International budget proposals he'd been reviewing, and gave his teammate a once-over. Steve was all hunched up in that way he got when he didn't want to admit he was in over his head with something, shoulders and face all closed in on themselves like it was more acceptable for a smaller person to be in need. At least he'd learned to ask for help despite his reluctance, and however much he still grumped about it in the attempt to cover up his self-consciousness.

Tony would do his best to make sure he never added to those feelings.

"Of course, darling. For you, always. What can I help you with?"

He put down the tumbler of scotch he'd been sipping at. It was down to lightly tinted meltwater anyway; time for a refill.

Steve's eyes flicked from one spot to the next in the room, hitting compass points in a surrounding radius, before he conspicuously dragged them over to meet Tony's in an aggressive stare.

Tony's mouth curved upward. Steve no longer intimidated him, and he found immense enjoyment in watching his responses. They were always so... he rejected a few words. Neither simple, nor transparent. Just writ large, moving on well-defined trajectories, much like the caroms of his shield.

Committed, he thought, that summed it up. Once he'd made a decision, Steve put his whole heart into everything. He might cross his arms forbiddingly, so those bulging biceps distracted from the fact that he wore it on his sleeve, but like a cipher that always used the same key, once you knew the substitutions, he was easy enough to read.  

Sure, he could be stubborn, and bullheaded, and infuriating, but amidst the snaky subterfuge of politics and business that were harder to get clean of than the impact gel Tony used in the armor, Steve's stalwartness was a blessing. It would be such a disappointment if that were ever contaminated by subtlety.

"It's. Uh. It's Janet." The obstinate set of Steve’s jaw shouted his discomfort in speaking of personal matters. Tony would never reveal it, but it rubbed a little tarnish off his jaded heart to have earned and held Steve's trust in this.

He pushed back from his desk, standing and waving Steve toward one of the pair of low, round-backed chairs in front of it. He rolled his head on his neck, wincing at the audible pops, and plopped himself down in the other, by way of dumping the ice and refilling his drink at the bar.

Stretching his legs in front of him, he crossed his ankles, and made himself comfortable with his first sip. "So, what about our illustrious Wasp has a bee in your bonnet?"

Steve, the poster boy for good posture, sat ramrod straight, the chair back entirely superfluous. "We have... It's date night tomorrow."

The scotch was going down the way Tony liked it, hot, sharp, and comfortable. Unlike Steve, he knew when he needed to relax. He took another sip. "And you're worried about impressing her? Need some sartorial advice? Short-notice reservation at--"

Steve's hands visibly tightened on his knees. Tony watched him watch them. " _Third_ date."

"Oh-hhh." Tony's mouth rounded and his eyes widened enough to feel the cool air under his lids. Apparently Steve was having no problem accepting _that_ particular modern notion. Well.  Almost no problem.

"Yeah. Worried about. _Impressing_ her," Steve muttered.

Tony felt like he was watching Steve's effort of will in slow-motion again. He could almost see the impulses firing from his brain, track one wave down his arms to his hands, instructing his fingers to unclench, then another sending out to lift his head and make eye contact. His gaze was frightfully bare.

It was so easy to forget how young Steve was. So easy to see the combat-tested soldier who showed no hesitation in flinging himself at everything from bullets on up, the commanding leader who snarled out battle cries and never doubted his ideals or his fists. The hero.

God, for someone so experienced in war, put him in the face of love instead, and it was obviously an entirely different story. It only endeared him to Tony more.

"Steve." He said it gently. There was a time for nicknames, last names, pet names. This wasn't it. "If you've got to the third date, it's because she likes you. You'll be fine. Better than, I'm sure. You have... this isn't your first ‘third date,’ right?"

"I'm not a virgin." Steve raised his chin, daring someone to strike him down for saying the word without even a stammer. "But the only other time I... went steady with someone, I was. We both were. It... we didn't know how... I mean, we _knew_ , but it… didn't work out very well, even after a few tries."

He was so brave. Never looking away from Tony, with the flush spreading from his cheeks, creeping up his face and down his neck, while he admitted his sexual failures. Tony sipped at his drink some more. Already halfway gone. Funny how that happened. He nodded, slowly, thoughtful.

"It's better, sometimes, if one partner has some experience. To help guide things along. Jan--" This was delicate. He knew how deeply horrified Steve had been, they all had, finding out about the years of domestic abuse she'd suffered, and reminders of her marriage were dicey.

"--she's a modern woman, you know, not promiscuous, please don't think I'm saying that, or, impugning her reputation in any way, but it's a sex-positive era, ok? She's had partners, she had a married life. I'm sure she can show you what she likes--"

"I don't want her to have to _show_ me." Steve's eyes blazed, then banked down. "She takes me shopping, she explains how things work, she... she's always so helpful and _nice_. Like you. But she's supposed to be my girlfriend, not... I don't want her to feel like she's my... my mother, or a teacher.”

“I don’t think you’re in any danger of that,” Tony drawled. It definitely wouldn’t be the right time to bring up the merits of sexy role-play scenarios.

“It’s just… for _one_ thing, I’d like to be able to feel like an equal.” Steve groaned. “She’s so _sophisticated_.”

Aww, and Steve was so smitten.

“That she is. Welcome to the mysteries of the fairer sex, Initiate Rogers. Just remember that we mere men live to serve at the altar of female ascendency, and you’ll be on the path to a successful relationship!” Of course there was a grain of truth to that, but it was still a shame to hear Steve denigrating his own worth in regard to a woman.

Steve finally slumped, scrubbing his hands over his face and saying something into them that Tony had to ask him to repeat. “I said, she, uh...isn’t shy about how much she likes my body--”

“And who wouldn’t, hot stuff?” Tony interjected, looking him up and down with a leer, then miming zipping his lips, not wanting to discourage Steve from continuing. They hadn’t got him into jeans yet -- _and wouldn’t_ that _be the day_ \-- but at least those shopping trips had him in well-fitting slacks and a snappy polo, both of which outlined everything _so_ nicely.

Steve glared as he went on. “--and I’m pretty sure she has some… expectations. I just don’t want to disappoint her,” he finished plaintively.

" _Expectations._ You want to blow them out of the water." Tony grinned, showing his teeth.

Steve was right with him, caught up in the spirit now. "Yeah. I wanna show her a real good time. Maybe that's prideful, but--"

"You're a man, Steve, that's primal. And it’s also generous. So you're a less-experienced guy, a day away from the all-important third date with a lady who knows what she wants. And this brings us back to my original question: How can I help you? Set you up with a decade's worth of Cosmo sex quizzes? The highlights of the director’s cut of my porn collection?"

Tony felt himself start to stir just thinking about the rack on the one redhead, and the blonde with absolutely no gag reflex... Mm, he was getting himself a little revved up. He glanced down at his lap, but there wasn't quite enough happening to show through the silk house robe he wore over his sweater and slacks. Maybe he'd pull those videos out later and relieve some tension while reliving some memories... And meantime, Steve might prefer the movies where Tony wasn't actually one of the participants -- that was fine, he had plenty of those, too.

“I don’t know… I… there’s probably nothing… maybe I didn’t think this through.”  

Steve sounded so dejected. All his confidence of a moment ago seemed to have evaporated, and he was looking everywhere but at Tony again, his hands pressed to the arms of the chair and his weight edging forward like he was about to get up and walk out. Oh, this wouldn't do. _Rally, Stark_.

"Steve, darling, wait. There's no shame in a little dedicated _research_ toward the ends of fulfilling your delightful Janet's every sexual fantasy. Maybe magazines and movies aren't going to cut it, too impersonal, not sufficiently... interactive? Hm, you might be right, you're a very hands-on kind of guy. I'm thinking private lessons might be more the way to go."

Ooh, good save, he had Steve's attention back now, all wide-eyed wonder like he was being offered a tryst with the Constitution _and_ the Declaration of Independence, in one pre-eminent temperature-and-humidity-controlled private archive. Alright, he could see where, brave or not, it might be tough for Steve to walk in and ask for a hooker, even a high-class one, so...

"I do have a _very_ discreet escort service just a phone call away, any shape and color you could want, all yours for the night, my treat..."

And Steve's face had fallen again, as though he'd just found out those dream documents were forgeries. _Ok. Back up, you were onto something there for a minute… what did you miss?_

"Help me out, here, Steve. Help me help you. You heard something you liked. Can you tell me what it was?" He was _dying_ to know, but kept the request as low-pressure and encouraging as he could make it.

And they were still in the game. At least Steve was considering it. Tony watched that broad chest fill, slow and deliberate, before Steve let his answer take the air. "I don't... I don't think I need love, for sex. But a stranger--" He shook his head.

This seemed a little non-sequitur, but Tony let him talk it out.

"--I don't think I could do that either. It's too personal. I'd have to feel... something. For... a friend, at least."

Steve pasted on a smile, and it wasn't hard to tell he was forcing it for Tony. His hands tapping an alternating rhythm on his thighs was a huge tell for just how agitated he was underneath the careful, reflective phrases.

"You're a good friend, Tony. You're trying to help like I asked, and I'm not making it too easy. You said 'hands-on,' and I thought you were... it was stupid. My mistake."

Did he really mean...? Well, wasn't Steve just full of surprises today. In all reality, no, Tony hadn't been... but this had definite, intriguing possibilities. He took a deep breath of his own, the alcohol sailing smoothly through his blood, floating him just a little above it all, keeping everything mellow and risk-free. Just like it was supposed to.

"You liked the idea of the private lesson. But -- from me?"

"Told you, it was stupid." The fake smile had overbalanced itself back to a grimace.

"Oh, no, my dear. The furthest thing from it. Brilliant! After all, why learn from anyone but the best?" He broke free of the gravity well pushing him into the cushioned chair back, and got his feet under him. “You said it yourself. A _friend_. And here I am, happy to help!”

Steve met the hand he held out, reaching for his other as he stood, and it might have been to help steady him, but it still got them up and facing one another.

Tony swung their joined hands between them like a bad impression of a barn dance, and Steve grumbled, "How drunk are you, Stark?"

The corners of Steve's mouth were trying and failing to hold the frown, while the corners of his eyes crinkled at Tony, and their sky-blue centers were full of stars.

"Mmm, higher on you than the scotch, big boy." He grinned goofy, giddy, carefree. "And just a lovely little buzz to top it off, nothing to keep me from performing my duties in an exemplary fashion. Speaking of which, shall we vacate to my _other_ office, where the facilities are slightly more suited to what’s on the agenda?”

Steve rolled his eyes and huffed at him. “Lead the way.” He disengaged their linked hands, but only to sling an arm around Tony’s waist, a welcome, tantalizing presence over the silk, at his hip and grazing the small of his back.

A part of Tony wanted the walk down the hall to last longer, but another part was beginning to remind him that sex lessons for Steve, when they reached their destination, would mean much, _much_ more contact with the delicious blast-furnace radiating all down his left side. And less clothing. And hands, mouths, pleasures, and orgasms. And _then_ , if he had his way… Yes, his cock was waking, taking an interest and hanging heavier, and his skin was beginning to tingle. This was going to be so good. For Steve, to make it good for Janet. He was going to make it so good for them.


	2. Chapter 2

Tony hip-checked his bedroom door open and drew Steve inside. Steve pulled it shut behind them, and they wound up facing each other once again.

“First rule, darling, before we go any further--”

Steve looked askance. “There are rules to this?”

Tony smiled softly at him and reached up to cup the side of Steve’s face. His skin was firm and unblemished, misleadingly soft under Tony’s callused hand. “Just the one, actually.  And it’s simple. Leave your shame here at the door. There are no rights and wrongs to anything in sex except what both partners enjoy. If you want something or want to try something, ask for it--” though it’d be a serious blow to his pride if Steve had to  __ “ _ \-- _ and if you don’t want or don’t like something, say so, and it stops, no questions, no judgment. Are you with me?”

“You usually know me for putting up with much shit I don’t like?” Steve groused, and it was so very true to surly form, that it set them both laughing, 

“Touche, my dear, you do have a point,” Tony acknowledged. “But that was only part of it. Do we have an understanding?”

Steve nodded curtly against his palm, and he’d take it. This wasn’t a formal scene negotiation where he’d be a stickler for the explicit verbal response. Just doing his friend a favor. Showing him the ropes, yes, but not that kind. 

Steve’s pupils were already a little blown, and Tony honestly couldn’t tell at this point if it was nerves or the stirrings of arousal. He’d lay his bet on some of each. He brushed his thumb over the corner of Steve’s lips, full and pink, even softer than his cheek.  _ It was intense, just how much the cowl hardened him. _ Steve parted them a little, maybe reflexively, at the touch, and his breath feathered out, warm and light. Tony leaned in and up the couple of inches that made the difference in their heights -- and was unpleasantly surprised when Steve tucked his chin to evade the chaste kiss he’d meant to place on his mouth to seal the deal.

A twist wrung itself between his ribs. “Steve?” He let his hand drop away and took a half step back. 

“Can we not… kiss? I already feel like I’m--” Steve cut himself off and looked back up at Tony, pleading. “I don’t mean to be an ass about it, but I… want to save something.”

Well, hell.Tony couldn’t deny he relished the steamy, jungle-ripe humidity of shared breath and tangling tongues, but “no questions, no judgment” -- he’d meant that.  “Of course. Anything you want and nothing you don’t. I’m glad you said something.” 

He was. It wasn’t like Steve had never ignored his own preferences and pushed himself way past limits, and not like Tony hadn’t done the same, himself. But this wasn’t a battle, with life-threatening consequences at stake. There was no place for self-sacrifice here. In the bedroom, the only greater good was their own. 

“Thanks for not minding.” Tony wasn’t used to hearing him in these hushed tones. Steve’s voice, always low, was an extra raspy rumble that made him imagine his own chest set in motion by sympathetic vibrations. “And, uh…”

Tony questioned him with a tilt of his head.

Steve darted his eyes away and stuffed his hands in his pants pockets. “...this isn’t cheating, right? If it’s with a man? And it’s to make it better for her?”

Tony would have liked to just let that whole issue sneak by down the sidelines… damn. He supposed it depended on your definitions. His had always been flexible. And it couldn’t be cheating if Steve and Jan weren’t intimate yet, right? It was more like a… last fling, before Steve settled into what he assumed would be monogamous dating life. And meanwhile, he and Steve were both adults, both fully informed and consenting, and Tony settled on what felt like a fair equivocation for his answer.

"Don't even trouble yourself, darling. This is all for her. I promise you, she'll appreciate the results without ever needing to know the details. But if you’re not comfortable, if you’ve changed your mind, then we won’t, and that’s all there is to it.”

He would let Steve walk out untouched, of course he would. But he could admit, he’d gotten his hopes up for leaving those old sex tapes to their retirement…

“No! Tony, I really need this, I have to… just, thank you, again. It means a lot to me that you’re doing this.”

“Oh, don’t thank me yet, darling. You don’t even know the half of it. “

Steve shrugged. “Then let’s get on with it. I’m ready if you are.” In a matter of seconds he had his shoes off, sitting side by side with his socks stuffed into them, and was reaching for his belt buckle, sliding the tucked-in end out of the loops.

“Whoa, there, tiger!” Tony exclaimed, taken aback, and grabbing for Steve’s hands. It left them gripping the loose end of the leather together. Supple, fine-grained. Quality. He approved. Definitely to be savored. “You don’t just start stripping it all off!”

Steve stilled his hands under Tony’s and glowered at him. “You don’t want me to take my clothes off?”

“I do, oh, do I! But back up a step here. Part of the appeal for a lady is the way you set the mood. You want to romance her. Candles, music, not a bad idea. Foreplay starts with your clothes on. And, yes, the way you take them off. There’s a time and a place for a quickie, but this is going to be about giving her the full experience. Attention to everything.”

Tony started rubbing his thumbs up and down the mountains of Steve’s knuckles as he elaborated. “Make every part of it something that can turn her on, ramp things up.”  

Over the crags and and into the valleys of webbing between the fingers he wended, reminding them of softer sorts of impacts. “You said she likes your body? Gooood. Tease her a little with it.” 

He slowed what he was saying and doing as he went, using this to work into the opening of a seduction. “A button or two undone, a glimpse of this and a flash of that, the suggestion that she might not get it all right away, even if you’re both a sure thing.” 

His voice had taken on a sing-song lilt, swaying along with his hips and shoulders. “It’ll make her crazier for you.”

He kept his hands moving over Steve’s, now leaving off the caresses to pull back the strap of the belt, flicking the tongue of the buckle, and slowly drawing the leather out through heavy, body-warmed brass. 

Ice-chilled glasses and poor circulation kept his hands cold so often. The heat Steve put off was like a personal hearth fire. His knuckles brushed and bumped against the folds of Steve’s tucked-in shirt, and the hints of hard muscle behind it. Steve’s breath was coming low and deep from the diaphragm, and Tony had himself mesmerized, couldn’t look away from Steve’s waistline, not even to check if he was getting Steve caught up in it, too.

“I’m supposed to make a strip-tease of it?” The way Steve went all gruff when he was uncertain was pushing an entirely different button in this setting, a bedroom voice if Tony had ever heard one, and he sure had. One didn’t even begin to count.

“That can be one way to go about it. Doesn’t have to be anything fancy. Doesn’t have to be everything coming off at once. A little of yours. A little touching. A little of hers. A little more. Buildup, big boy. If you can feel it, she probably can too.” 

Steve’s hands dropped to his sides, and Tony didn’t mind the passivity. Didn’t mind doing the work. He was demonstrating. He tugged the loose-hanging buckle gently, and stayed quiet while the belt’s length slithered its way out of the loops with a soft swish. Details for the senses.  That’s what he wanted to show Steve. 

“I can feel it.” 

Tony finally looked up. The darkness in Steve’s eyes was definitely arousal now. So was the bulge he’d seen growing behind his zipper. Yeah. Tony had him. They’d done… nearly nothing, and he had them both, the way it ought to be, a snare that ran both ways.. 

He loved it like this, everything elongated and elastic, the languor that came before the urgency. Every breath, he started slowly, and felt them quicken as they rose, showers tingling down from scalp to shoulders as he exhaled . Anticipation was beautiful. He could stay in this state for days, just letting the sensual energy wash through him and pool in his throat, his chest, his cock and balls.  This, he wanted to impart. He wanted Steve to hunger. 

He wrapped the belt around his right hand, turn after turn, till it was one thick spiral. Reached for the vacated belt loops with two fingers of his left, and used them to step a pliant Steve a few feet over to the dresser, where he set the coil down with a muted clink on the polished wood, and watched it swell a little, opening up from the center, as it was freed. 

He sought Steve’s eyes again to check in, and they met low, neither of them having to look up much. Steve had been watching it too.

“You good, gorgeous?” Now was the time for the pet names, and the petting, and endearments. The suggestion of a smile felt relaxed on his cheeks, fit his skin with no more tailoring needed than Steve measuring his every movement. 

Steve, whose eyes were so blown. He looked startled, shocked, looked like he’d just woken in a pitch-black room. Like the dream had been so, so good, and it had been true.  Steve should have that.

“Good, yeah. You’re doing all the… can I?”  he questioned, reaching for the sash of Tony’s robe.  

Tony  spread his arms . “Be my guest.”

When Steve had it unknotted, hands so large, but fingers nimble, he dropped the ends and hesitated only a moment -- _ good, asking was good, but so was knowing he had permission _ \-- and sliding his palms under the lapels and  exhaling on a sigh just as Tony let out his own breath, as if the light press of two hands above his heart was enough to tell everything inside his chest to release. 

Steve eased the robe off his shoulders and seemed surprised when the slick material fell prey to inertia and slipped off to pile around his feet.  _ Just how Janet’s dress should end up. _ He telegraphed a bend to retrieve it, and Tony contradicted with hands on Steve’s corded forearms. “Leave it, darling. Good sex isn’t fastidious. I want us to get  _ much _ less tidy than this.”

Steve eyed him dubiously, then shrugged, letting it go.

Still holding Steve’s arms above the wrists, middle fingers not even close to touching thumbs, Tony hinted, “I think it’s a little hot for me to be wearing this, don’t you?” He led Steve’s hands back toward his belt line, and Steve took up the suggestion, and the hem of the sweater, and then the initiative to untuck the t-shirt he wore underneath it. Tony raised his arms for Steve to pull the layered assembly up and over his head, hands ducking back down to help out blind at the inevitable traffic jam around his neck, and then lifting back up for it all to peel off his arms. 

All clear. He could feel the tousled mess of sticking up and overlapping strands it’d made of his head. Steve looked at him and smiled, lazy and challenging, and pointedly dropped the whole inside-out heap of shirts to the floor.

Perfect. Tony could feel himself lighting up, his face warming and grin broadening. The air hit and prickled up his flesh, tightened the hairs on his arms, and his nipples to hard nubs, all pulsing in time with the blood filling between his legs. He was euphoric, buzzing, high. 

“Perfect,” he repeated aloud. “Trail of clothes leading to the bed. It’s iconic.” 

Steve’s eyes jumped up and past him, to the capacious king-size halfway across the room. “Maybe we should take things in that direction.”

“We can do that.”  But neither was moving. Beyond that glance, the bed wasn’t holding Steve’s attention. Tony was. Tony struck a pose with one hip out, silently asking if Steve liked what he saw, and watched Steve’s throat bob as he swallowed, then licked his lips. Oh, yes, he was very much to Steve’s tastes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to [Veldeia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veldeia) once again, along with both [Firelightmystic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firelightmystic) and [demigodscum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/demigodscum) for beta on this chapter. I so very much appreciate all of the help and support in working out my pronoun conundrums, emotional dynamics, and all-around Authorial Overthinking. All remaining errors and Bad Decisions are, of course, solely my own.

When Steve reached for him, Tony expected the contact, but not at all the form it took. Steve’s shield-hardened palms landed low on his chest, sure fingers wrapping outward like a firmly laced corset around his ribs, solid stripes of heat against the bones. And with both thumbs, he rubbed up over Tony’s peaked nipples, sending streaky hot-cold flashes arrowing straight to his cock. 

Tony let his eyes close, the better for the sensations to amplify, everything falling to dark except the three points of a triangle popping in vividly imagined, thermal-mapped neon behind his lids.

He moaned, wanton, please, do that, yes, more, God, he was so  _ easy _ , such a glutton for being touched, and it was so good that Steve knew how to do this, and…  _ oh, _ he’d been saying it all aloud, the begging, the praise.

He hadn’t even realized, till Steve started explaining, “She liked this. We, uh. Above the waist, we were good.” 

_ She _ who, Steve hadn’t said, but he had to mean that past lover, Tony was certain, and nnnh, ahh, he’d have to tell him,  _ later, he’d remember _ , that not everyone was so sanguine about having previous partners mentioned in the heat of the moment. 

“With my mouth, too,” Steve added, so matter-of-fact that Tony couldn’t quite pin down where the smug was, but it was there and unmistakable. God help him, Steve was going to be  _ so _ , so dangerous once he was this confident unconditionally. 

After the provocative statement, Steve didn’t make any move to put his mouth to the task, but just the thought had Tony hardening further. He made himself open his eyes to Steve’s hands cupping him, the pads of his thumbs rolling and circling and sending those bolts of quicksilver along his nerves, and nngh, if kissing weren’t off the table… Tony chewed on his tongue and the insides of his cheeks with his back teeth, just to get the feeling of something moving around in his mouth. But the rasp to near-tickle changing up over his nipples was taking him heavenly places as it was, keeping him putting out soft noises and pushing his chest into Steve’s hands, and they could carry right on just like this, ain’t broke, don’t fix it, he didn’t mind at all, except Steve already knew how, and he should… 

“Bed, we were taking this to the bed,” he breathed out, shakily, and jerked his head in the general direction of off-to-the-side-behind-him. 

“That’s right. Sorry, I--” the motion ceased, and it brought regret and relief and awareness of a simmering ache at the centers of his nipples, where Steve had worked too much heat into them to dissipate immediately. 

“Do not, I will not hear it, apology not accepted, Rogers, that was exquisite.” Tony was adamant and breathless, loose and all coiled up, and Steve skimmed his hands up Tony’s chest to his shoulders, out and back down to his biceps, and push-pulled till he pivoted so Steve was behind him, marching them toward the bed. Steve held him at just enough distance that all Tony could feel of him was the snug bands around his arms and the heat-signature riding along in the air between them.  _ Mm, good, assertive _ . 

They stopped naturally together a step away from the bedframe.

“Tony.” It was quiet and compelling, like his limbs were still under Steve’s direction, even though he’d let go.

Tony turned back around to find Steve methodically unbuttoning the two fastened buttons of his polo, first the middle, then the lowest, exposing a pretty patch of pale skin and collarbones. Then he moved to the button of his slacks, easing it through its hole, and that little undone triangle above his tightly stretched fly was suggestive enough to have Tony’s mouth watering. This was a far cry from the way Steve had started to undress a few minutes ago. He’d been listening, and letting the mood take him, Tony could tell. He was doing it right this time. Tony wouldn’t be anywhere else but here while it happened.

Straightening his fingers, Steve slid them down the sides of his hips to untuck his shirt, the wrinkled bottom edge so incongruous with the rest of his neatly pressed appearance.  _ So much mess yet to make.  _ His lips were slightly parted, and his pupils, fixed on Tony, were still so big and dark. Everything about him said, control, everything about him said, holding it carefully. Tony wanted to break it, with equal care. 

Steve reached back over his shoulder with one hand and pulled, his shirt coming over his head in one fluid motion, his muscles bunching and abdomen scooping in and out as the obscuring curtain of fabric lifted. When it was all the way off, he stood with his hair ruffled, a little red in the face, like the moments breathing his own air had made the cloth covering his head into a hotbox.

And then as he’d done with Tony’s clothing, he opened his hand wide and let the shirt fall. He glanced back at the several scattered garments. “Not quite a trail to the bed, but let’s call it a win?”

It was offhand, like it meant little, but Tony could read into that very casualness his need for the approval.

“We stand victorious,” he said softly, toeing out of his shoes and shuffling toward Steve’s glorious bare chest. 

He trailed fingers up Steve’s pectoral, short nails scoring lightly, feeling the hitch of Steve’s breath, and watching the goosebumps rise. Did it again with both hands flat, heavy-satin skin a rich treat under his palms. He slid them up the long, wide rise to Steve’s shoulders and squeezed into the thick, sloping muscles there, feeling the shudder that rippled through in response. 

With one more step in, he had the arms’ length he needed to wrap his hands behind Steve’s neck, thumbs seeking the pulse points at both sides of his throat. Just resting over the beat, just setting himself by it. There was no pressure, no power play, no need to protect the vulnerable places.

Steve’s arms came up to loosely circle Tony’s back, and a breath skipped out of him in quick, breeze-tossed wavelets, everything going slow and golden inside, sun-kissed like a summer’s day on the lake. 

The clipped hairs at Steve’s nape alternated soft and bristly, as Tony scritched into and against the nap. Steve’s features relaxed, the narrowness that often rode around his mouth and eyes opening up. Tony watched his face and collected his shivers. 

“‘s nice.” He hadn’t thought Steve’s voice could go any deeper, but he was wrong. It was just above a whisper, and sandpaper laced with smoke.

Moving closer was irresistible, but true to his word, Tony didn’t try to kiss him, didn’t even nuzzle too close to his face to suggest it. He contented himself, and he was  _ very _ content, with inhaling at the corner of Steve’s jaw, with skimming his hands down from Steve’s neck to the spread-winged angles of his shoulder blades, ducking his head and nosing into the center of Steve’s chest, while Steve pulled his arms up from within the circle of Tony’s and rewrapped them on the outside.

Steve smelled good everywhere, bright and clean, a blend of unperfumed soap and a light tang of woodsy cologne, mixed with a hint of sweat just hitting his pores. So underrated, a good fresh sweat. Tony loved it out on the surface and loved the dark, musky places even more, eagerly awaited getting under Steve’s arms, and into his groin.

He lifted his chin back to Steve’s shoulder, both their arms taking up the last of the slack to draw them into a slow-dance embrace, their breaths fluttering past each other’s cheeks. He moaned quietly at the first solid press of their naked torsos, the heated expanse of skin-on-skin, and the hint of rawness reawakening in his nipples. His fingers flexed of their own accord, kneading into the thick curves of muscle lining Steve’s back, and he moaned again when Steve hummed a near-subsonic note and mirrored the motion along his spine, where he perpetually carried his tension. The shifting touch-points turned him to liquid crystal, spreading deep nerve sensations like shimmering colors in their wake.

He arched into it, bringing their hips into tighter contact. 

“Tony…” This time, his name rolled out on a long groan, and Steve’s hips canted up and rolled against him in answer, and there was no mistaking the hard evidence of where all this was leading. 

A drop of liquid beaded at the head of Tony’s cock, trailing off into clinging silk shorts already tacky with spots of leaked pre-come.

He didn’t regret taking them through this slowly, and once Steve had clued into the idea, didn’t think he had either. But Tony could feel a threshold approaching, the low throb between his legs growing sharper and more persistent, gaining traction like a drive shifting down gears. 

He slid his hands down to play at the small of Steve’s back and along his sides, fingers toying and dipping just under the already unbuttoned waistband of his slacks. Tiny muscle contractions and twitches of Steve’s skin followed in faint contrails everywhere he passed. He wished it were only a matter of fast enough reflexes to pluck them up and bottle them away for posterity. Instead, he could only drink them in as Steve’s hands fed every one of them back, breathing and buffing them into his own electrified skin. A suspicion was forming -- and why had it not occurred to him sooner? -- of Steve being almost as touch-starved as himself, only much less aware of it.

He unhooked his chin and leaned away just enough to bring his hands around in half-circles to the front of the waistband. “How about we get you out of these, hm?” 

“Yeah, ‘bout time.” The gripe had a little too much air to hold the edge Steve probably wanted on it.

“Getting impatient?” he goaded lightly.

“Getting real turned on. Like you can’t tell.”

Tony ate up the words, plain-spoken as they were. Steve called it like he saw it. That was just as good as any dirty talk.

His lips curved in a wide crescent. “I certainly can. It’s mutual, beautiful.”  

He’d helped bring Steve to here, and was going to help get him -- both of them -- the rest of the way there. He _ knew _ , but that was just the start. He was ready to be immersed in it, overwhelmed by it, pulled into the undertow to drown.

He lowered the zipper along the rigid line of Steve’s pent-up erection, and Steve hissed through his teeth and bucked into Tony’s hands. It was a spark leaping the firebreak, inspiring his own cock to leap in his pants. 

Steve stepped out of the slacks as Tony peeled them off, and he hadn’t meant to follow them down, but his knees went so soft and ready to bend, and he folded straight into his plush carpeting in front of Steve’s stretched-thin white cotton briefs and the standing ridge barely concealed behind it. 

Tony did not, never had, believed in sin, and that left only one easy answer to temptation. His hands climbed the hewn-granite columns of Steve’s thighs, and he ducked to the side and plunged face-first into the pocket between leg and all that natural splendor straining skyward.   

The musky smell hit him hot and heady, and he’d willingly hyperventilate on this. He breathed in deep through his nose, and then out through his wide-open mouth, dampening the cloth, ready to soak it, swallow Steve down and suck him dry. A tip of his head, and he had his lips curled along the covered shaft, the whole mass pushing into the corners of his mouth and riding over his flattened tongue with every sharp, short jerk of Steve’s hips, the same shape and rhythm of the cries Steve was choking off as if his own mouth were the one stuffed full. The rough fibers softened with Tony’s pooling spit spilling out, and scent exploded into taste, traces of Steve’s own pre-come and the half-illusion of skin-flavor seeping through the wet fabric. 

Tony dropped one hand to his lap to palm himself through his slacks, the other remaining to brace him steady as he worked his thirsting mouth, and at first, the tugging at his hair was a welcome, strident counterpoint, but Steve was saying something now, the urgency translating before the meaning of the words. The grip switched to his shoulders, insistent, pulling him up and away. 

“ _...stop _ , stoppit, dammit Tony, you have to  _ STOP!”  _ Steve was gasping out, wild in the eyes and beet red in the face, pink blotching down his neck and chest, and Tony loved the desperate, the wrecked, except for how backwards this was. Where was the “don’t” that belonged before the “stop?” How was he being  _ turned down _ for a blowjob?

He scrambled to his feet, but it felt like Steve was doing most of the heavy lifting, holding him up on legs that pleaded to buckle right back down. He slathered the back of his hand across his mouth, mopping up the drool overflowing the corners and down the traces of his beard. 

“Steve, what’s--” It came out husky, harsh, with a crack down the middle. He cleared his throat and tried again. “What happened, what’s wrong?”

“Goddamn you, Stark. I’ve never felt anything like-- “ Steve shook his head, shifted his hips, and whether he’d sensed that Tony had steadied on his feet, or because his own discomfort had become too pressing to ignore, stole his right hand away to reach down and adjust himself.

“--but that’s not… you know this isn’t about doing things for me.” The glare and hard-clenched jaw dared Tony to contradict him.  

Steve had left his hand between his legs, rubbing the heel absently up and down the outline of his dick, and  _ hello _ , this was a stimulating visual, Steve just short of jerking himself off, directly in front of him. Through the hand still resting on his shoulder, Tony could feel the slight tensing and relaxing of Steve’s grip, and the subtle rocking of his weight as he worked himself idly through his wetted underwear. 

The sudden halt to the action had quelled Tony’s erection slightly, but hmmm, it was firming right back up, pulling and lengthening behind  _ too many _ layers of remaining clothing, the damp silk creating a binding just the wrong side of the good kind of friction. 

WIthout breaking eye contact, he sorted himself out with one hand and a shimmy of his hips, his own touch an inflaming tease. A deep sound escaped his throat as the bunching eased enough to be bearable, and at that, Steve lost his own staredown, his eyes skittering away on an unstealthy side-strip to check out Tony’s crotch. 

No, this definitely hadn’t been about what Steve  _ didn’t _ want. It was about what he thought he  _ shouldn’t _ want. It was true, it wasn’t like giving Steve a  _ (stunning, earth-shattering) _ blowjob was going to do anything for showing him how to bring Janet to a screaming orgasm or three. And while Tony avariciously intended to do exactly that for Steve himself, he had plenty of other… techniques, at his disposal, enough of which could be, he might say,  _ adapted _ to suit the nature of their arrangement.

“I hear you, old boy,” he intoned, heavy-lidded and full of promise. “Don’t worry. I know exactly what you’re looking for.”

He reached up to lift Steve’s hand away from his shoulder, setting it in the air with a half-circling of his thumb around the lines eroded into his rugged palm. The caress earned him a quick intake of breath, as though a startling twist of fate had been revealed by his sightless reading. 

Standing clear now, he shucked his trousers with the swiftness and flair of a solo tango. Hips snapped, back arched, belt whipped, button popped.  _ Zip _ was both the sound and speed of whisking down its namesake, and he made no effort to silence the gritty sigh at the stricture released on his cock. With a toss of his head, he bent over, straight-legged and table-backed, shot a coy glance up at Steve, and broke it only to round his spine and step his feet out of his pant legs, hooking off triple-digit dress socks along the way. 

Feeling a hundred pounds lighter, limber and well-oiled, Tony straightened. In the few seconds he’d been undressing, Steve had crossed his arms, but his eyes were following Tony avidly, and the color was high in his cheeks. 

Tony sashayed right back into Steve’s space, dropping a flurry of soft touches like snowflakes. The hair at his temple, a trail along his cheekbone, backs of fingers brushing down his pec on the way to setting a hand at the crook of his elbow. And had to stop himself again from leaning up to give the kiss that so naturally wanted to follow. Catching Steve’s eyes, he lowered his chin to lead them down, and with his other hand, shaped around the hard line of Steve’s erection through his still-damp briefs, curling his fingers under to hold the heavy fullness of his balls. 

“Let’s get you into bed and do something with all this.” 

Steve quivered, his cock pushing into Tony’s hand, and his breathing turning to gravel, and everything felt like a low-frequency generator had turned on under the floor, thickening the atmosphere by several extra densities.

He drew his first two fingers back up Steve’s cock, then changed directions to trace just beneath where he could feel the roundness of the head pressed up between his hipbones. The cuts of Steve’s abs visibly tightened, and he choked off a low, pleasured sound.  

Oh, no, this was not the time to be stoic. “Let it out, gorgeous, let me hear how I make you feel.”

Once more, he rubbed just below Steve’s cockhead through the damp cotton, in what had to be a rough drag against that keenly sensitive spot. Under his other hand, Steve’s folded arms ratcheted from taut to steely.

“Hnnnnn, oh, that’s… I  _ want _ …” 

Tony felt a fresh point of moisture seep through under his touch -- not enough to leave a tangible remnant, but as he drew his hand away, he circled his thumb and fingertips together as if it had, and it made his insides feel like warm liquid anyway.

“ _ Yesss,”  _  he encouraged, “and you shall have. Tell me everything, everything you could wish for. It’s  _ so _ hot to hear you.”

He squeezed Steve’s forearm and walked them the two steps backwards till the bedframe hit the bend of his knees, taking a moment to reach down and throw back the edge of the quilted duvet. Lifting his arms a little to the sides, he lowered his lashes, and purred, “And one more request while I’m at it, handsome: Would you be so kind as to sweep me off my feet?”

He hadn’t meant it literally -- more as an extravagant means of asking Steve to join him in getting horizontal. 

But then Steve was blinking at him, tucking his head and taking the stride forward like a very short charge, reaching for him and telegraphing the scoop of his heel behind Tony’s ankles, and tripping them down to the mattress.  _ Ohhh, bold tactic, soldier, recommend field promo-- _

The room turned on its axis, and Tony let out a little  _ oof _ of air as they bounced lightly into the decadent pillowtop.

**Author's Note:**

> (SPOILERS)  
> Infidelity is a touchy subject, so for anyone unsure whether or not they’ll be comfortable reading this story, here are some additional details about the relationships and events.
> 
> ** Steve and Jan are dating but not yet sleeping together when Steve and Tony sleep together for the first time.  
> **Steve’s relationship with Jan ends by the end of the fic, and Steve/Tony is the endgame pairing.
> 
> Many things are left ambiguous.  
> ** As the fic opens, Steve and Jan have had two dates. It is never stated whether exclusivity is expected at this stage of their relationship.  
> ** Before they sleep together, Steve and Tony acknowledge the issue of cheating, but decide to rationalize it away.  
> * After Steve and Tony sleep together for the first time, Steve and Jan have their third date (offscreen), and it’s known that they sleep together at least once.  
> ** Steve and Tony continue sleeping together, and it is strongly implied that offscreen, Steve and Jan are also still dating and sleeping together.  
> ** It is implied that exclusivity would be expected after Steve and Jan have started sleeping together, even if it possibly might not have been before that. So Steve and Tony’s first time might, maybe, not have been outright cheating, but past that, it almost definitely is.  
> ** At the end of the fic, it is revealed that Steve and Jan’s relationship ended at some point between their third date, and “present time” as of the end of the fic. The breakup was due to sexual incompatibility. The infidelity was not a cause of the breakup.  
> ** In the fic, there are no negative emotional consequences or fallout from the infidelity. It is implied that Jan was never aware that Steve had also been sleeping with Tony.


End file.
